


Girl Meets Perspective

by Dorene_Ahmad



Category: Boy Meets World, Girl Meets World
Genre: F/F, Rilaya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2018-10-26 01:06:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10776261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorene_Ahmad/pseuds/Dorene_Ahmad
Summary: It's been 8 years since Riley and Maya promised they'd always be together in the bay window. A lot can change in 8 years. This is a continuation of Girl Meets Complicated that takes place in their senior year of college, but reveals what happened in high school and college in flashbacks. This is a rilaya story narrated by alternating between Maya's POV and Riley's. Mature content.





	1. Chapter 1

(Author’s Note: I’m sorry this took so long. I have a lot going on right now so I won’t be able to update as frequently.) 

MAYA

I can hear something pounding, but I can’t tell if it’s external or just my own head. I had been in a deep sleep until this pounding disturbed me. Reluctantly, I open my eyes. I can’t tell what time of day it is because I keep the window shades closed these days. I don’t watch the light move during the day anymore. I can’t. If I do, then eventually I’ll notice that it’s 5:30. And I’ll remember that at 5:30 she turns gold. Except I’m not the one who gets to watch her turn gold everyday anymore. And that’s a hard reality to face every single day at 5:30. I’d rather just not notice what time of day it is and hope that 5:30 comes and goes quietly. 

There’s that pounding again. I realize now that it’s not just my head. It’s someone knocking on the door. I sit up. Whoa. I did that a little too fast. Now the pounding in my head is competing with the knocking on the door. Ugh. So many sounds. Why? I take a deep breath to steady my spinning, pounding head. 

“Maya, are you in there?” a familiar voice calls out. Wait. Am I hearing right? Is that Farkle? 

He keeps knocking. 

“Yeah, I’m coming,” I call out. I slowly stand up and stumble over clothes and empty bottles to get to the door. 

“Farkle?” I say as I open the door in disbelief. He looked so mature, wearing a stylish business suit, a little more casual than formal though. 

“Hey,” he said. He seemed a bit disturbed as he looked at me and entered my apartment. He looked at the empty bottles lying around and my disheveled appearance.

“Have you been drinking Maya? It’s only 11:00 A.M.” he asked. 

“Actually, no, not yet, because I was sleeping, but this is New York, where the bars open at 8, so I’m actually 3 drinks behind,” I said jokingly, but Farkle didn’t seem to get that it was a joke. 

“Relax, I’m kidding,” I explained. 

“Maya, do you even go to class anymore?” he asked, concerned. 

“It’s Saturday,” I answered.

“It’s Tuesday!” he exclaimed.

“It’s TUESDAY?! Wait, then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at Princeton?” I asked, confused. 

“Maya, I graduated a semester early remember? Because of all the AP classes I took in high school,” he tried to remind me. I honestly can’t even remember that. The last few months have been kind of a blur.

“Oh. Um. Belated Congratulations!” I said, giving him a hug.  
“You already congratulated me in January,” he said. What the hell? Why can’t I remember? How long ago was that?

“It’s still April right?” I asked. This is embarrassing. 

“It’s May. It’s almost June,” he answered. 

I frantically opened the calendar app in my phone and - phew- my class meets next week. “Ok, my class doesn’t meet until next week. We only meet 3 times over the semester, and my other class has an online option, so I usually watch the lectures at home,“ I answered his question.

“Yeah, I know. That class that meets three times a semester is your internship class. You know the internship at the Minkus Family Foundation that you mysteriously stopped showing up to? Why do you think I’m here, Maya?” he asked.

“I know, Farkle. I’m sorry, I’ll do better.” I replied. 

“My mother wanted to fire you, but I begged her to give you another chance,” he said. “I told her that someone like you needs to feel supported, not discarded.” 

Someone like me? Really Farkle? Why don’t you just say it? 

Alcoholic. 

That’s who I am now. But if he can’t even say it, how am I supposed to say it? How am I supposed to show up at an AA meeting and say to everyone “Hi, I’m Maya, and I’m an alcoholic…” 

“Well, thanks for talking to her for me,” I said graciously.

“The foundation is sponsoring an art exhibit at the Met - Breuer. It’s going to showcase contemporary local artists and young emerging artists. She wants you to help organize it and show some pieces of your work,” Farkle explained. 

“She wants me to show my work? At the Met?” I asked incredulously. 

“Well, it’s the Met - Breuer.” Farkle said. I know exactly what he means. It’s the building that used to be the Whitney Museum before the Whitney moved downtown. The Met bought it and now it’s the Met - Breuer, where they showcase modern and contemporary exhibits. 

“Wow”. I didn’t know what else to say. I never thought I’d get to show my art in a real museum. 

“It’s a great opportunity, and I want to see you succeed, so what can I do to help?” he asked as he started to gather the empty bottles off the floor and put them in the recycling bin. 

“You already have. You saved my internship grade. Just tell your mom I’ll see her tomorrow,” I promised. 

He walked back over to me and took me by the hand. “Maya, if you want to, there’s a meeting tonight.” He pulled up the community health center’s Facebook page on his phone and showed me a post about an Alcoholic’s Anonymous type meeting tonight. “I’ll go with you,” he offered. 

“I don’t think you’re allowed to, Farkle.” 

“Well, maybe not inside but I can take you and pick you up. Maybe we can get smoothies after.” 

He’s sweet. He’s all I have left these days. And I owe him for helping me keep my internship. I don’t want to let him down but…

“I’m not ready for this.” I tell him, honestly. I mean, isn't this a meeting for people who are getting sober? I’m not ready to be sober. I hate that I’m sober right now. I’ll probably make a drink as soon as Farkle leaves. 

“Well, when you’re ready, I’ll go with you.” He’s not persisting at least. “I have to get back to the office, but I’ll see you there tomorrow.” 

“At the Foundation office? Since when do you work there?” I mean I guess I wouldn’t know since I pretty much just stopped going to work.

“Since working at Minkus International was draining my soul,” he said. I nodded. 

He hugged me goodbye.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said as I shut the door behind him. 

Farkle gave up his lunch break to save my sorry ass. I wonder if sponsoring the art exhibit was his idea. I have to admit, it’s pretty genius. What better way to get an artist to regain interest in getting out of bed then by giving her an art show to organize. He wanted to make me feel like I had a purpose, and that my work had an audience waiting for it. 

It had to be his pitch. His mom just would’ve fired me, and she had every right to. I basically abandoned my position. I never meant to let her down. It’s just, these past few months have been really hard. Sometimes the urge to call Riley is unbearable, but I never give in. I haven’t seen or spoken to Shawn in awhile either. Seeing me like this probably wouldn’t be good for him right now.

I’m just trying to get through my last semester at Cooper Union, and then after that, I have no idea what I’ll be doing. I stopped seeing the point in making plans. They never work out they way you want them to. I twist open the bottle of Jameson on the counter and pour a double. I can never drink the first one straight so I cut it with sparkling water. 

This isn’t the life I was expecting. I wonder how the hell I got here like 50 times a day. It’s a long story, and when I don’t have a drink in my hand, it’s easy for me to get caught up in remembering it. So I drink to quiet the noise in my head, to numb the harsh memories, but I let myself linger on the good ones.

Like on Riley and I, freshman year of high school…


	2. Chapter 2

(Author’s Note: Sorry this update has taken so long. It’s hard to decide where to break for chapters when Maya is getting lost in her memories. This chapter is a bit long, and could’ve gone on longer, but then it really would’ve taken me forever to post something. Chapter 3 will pretty much pick up where this one left off. I know it’s all in Maya’s POV so far. Don’t worry, Riley will have her chapters later on.)

 

MAYA

I indulged myself in reminiscing about our freshman year of high school.

Riley made me go with her to the extracurriculars fair. It might’ve been called something different, I can’t remember, but thats essentially what it was. Riley and I wandered through tables set up in the gym, browsing through all the different clubs, teams, societies etc. Abigail Adams High School had a lot of options to choose from, but I had no intention of joining any. I wasn’t a joiner. I remember thinking the amount of hours I spend at school is already more than I want to be here, so why make it any longer? 

“Peaches! I just signed up for cheerleader tryouts!” Riley was beaming with excitement. 

“Of course you did, honey. I just hope you don’t hurt yourself this time,” I responded. 

“I also signed up for drama club, yearbook, and the FFA,” she added.

“What’s FFA?” I asked.

“Future Farmers of America.” She looked so excited by the prospect of it. 

“How is it possible that this school, in the middle of New York City, even has one of those?” I wondered out loud.

“Who knows? But my aptitude test told me to be I should be a bunny farmer, so I might as well explore my potential,” she explained. 

Farkle and Smackle approached us from across the gym. 

“Did you guys sign up to join the genius club?” I joked. 

“There’s a genius club? Where?” Smackle asked, not getting that I was kidding.

“I signed up for the drama club, and we both signed up for the robotics team and debate team,” Farkle replied. “How about you guys?” 

Riley recounted her extracurriculars. Farkle then turned to me and awaited to hear mine. 

“I’m not really into joining stuff.” I said.

“You’ll need some kind of extracurriculars to get into college,” Smackle advised.

“I think art schools will care more about my portfolio.” I said. 

“I bet there’s an art club,” Farkle suggested.

“I don’t need to join an art club.” I resisted. “I already do art as an extracurricular. I painted the the friendship bench at our last school. I painted that mural at Christopher Park. Art is just a solitary thing for me, not a group activity,” I explained. 

“How about a community service organization?” Farkle asked.

“I already do that, with you. Your dad gave us a bunch of money when he started his foundation, and we did good with it,” I answered him. 

“Why don’t we both join the Gay Straight Alliance?” Riley suggested.

I hesitated. “I don’t know, Riles. I don’t want to put targets on our backs,” I said. Ever since she got harassed by Sheldon and Cisco on the subway, I became more protective of her, and worried about putting ourselves in situations where we might be vulnerable. I know the GSA is supposed to be a welcoming and safe environment, but we were just freshmen. I wasn’t ready to put our relationship on blast like that here. Not yet. 

Riley scanned the room for an alternative. Her eyes lit up when she found it. Riley grabbed my hand and pulled me over to a table she spotted. “This is it Peaches! I have found your extracurricular,” she said as she gestured toward the sign up sheet for girls softball tryouts. 

“Aww really, Riles? I’m already the cliche artsy lesbian . You want me to be the stereotypical softball lesbian too?” I asked her. 

“Peaches, you have a great arm, and your hand-eye coordination is perfect,” Riley reasoned. 

Farkle chimed in, “Yeah, Maya. You were the best pitcher at John Quincy Adams. I used to be scared of your pitches back in seventh grade, remember? That’s how good of a pitcher you are.” 

“Having an athletic extracurricular would really make you stand apart from all the typical art school applicants,” Smackle pointed out. 

They were all making really great arguments, so I decided to give it a shot. I picked up the pen and wrote my name on the sign up sheet. Tryouts were actually kind of easy for me. Riley, Farkle, and Zay came to cheer me on. I did the same for Riley at her cheerleader tryouts. 

Farkle, Zay and Lucas were there as well. I wasn’t sure if Lucas came to cheer on Riley or Haley, because Haley decided to tryout too. Lucas and Haley had been seeing each other all summer, but still hadn’t made anything official. Lucas and Zay had both tried out for the football team and the baseball team. Lucas made both, and Zay made just the the baseball team. I guess Haley wanted to cheer at Lucas’s games, because she never showed an interest in cheerleading before. However, she seemed to pick up the routines rather easily, and made it. Riley’s tryout wasn’t quite so easy, but she never gave up and the coach admired her persistence enough to make her an alternate. 

Not only did I make the softball team, but I became one of the starting pitchers. I was the only freshman in the starting lineup. 

I was actually really glad I let my friends talk me into this. I learned a lot by being part of a team. I never really felt like a part of anything, well aside from our group of friends. Art was too personal to me to do in a group setting. Music was something I did solo. Being on the softball team taught me teamwork and discipline and it forced me to do a lot more physical activity than I would’ve done on my own. 

I actually would do workouts with Zay and Lucas sometimes. It was really good for me to be able to push myself and see what I was capable of. Sometimes we would go to the park and run laps, or play a friendly game of baseball on the diamond. Lucas helped me work on my swing. Pitchers aren’t usually the best hitters or the fastest runners, so I could learn a lot from a shortstop like him. It was nice to have something new in common with the Lucas and Zay. 

One day, after a workout, I asked Lucas about Haley as we stretched. 

“So Huckleberry, what’s up with you and Haley?” I asked.

Zay smiled and echoed me “Yeah, What IS up with you and Haley?”

Lucas smiled and shrugged, “We’re hanging out, and getting to know each other, I guess.” 

“Are you interested in her?” I pressed for more. Haley and I had become friends, and I knew that she was really into him. I wanted to know if that was mutual, because if he was with Haley, I wouldn’t have to worry about his old feelings for Riley. Not that I was really worried about it. Riley had made it clear to me that she wanted to be with me, not Lucas. But I guess I just wanted to know, to figure out if he had moved on from those feelings for Riley. 

“Yeah, I think so. We’re taking our time though. I’m not ready to ask her to be my girlfriend just yet.” He looked up at me. “But don’t tell her I said that,” he added.

“No worries, Ranger Rick. It stays between us,” I agreed. 

Maybe I should’ve know something from that answer he gave me. Maybe it was a sign that I missed. He was always reluctant to commit to Haley. I should’ve know what that meant. Although it’s really Haley who missed the signs the most. But I’m sure I missed some of my own from Riley. Love blinded us in a lot of ways. 

I looked down at my empty glass. My drink is empty. I went to the kitchen and poured more Jameson into the glass, this time finishing what was left in the bottle. I added some more ice and topped it off with sparking water. As I put the sparkling water back into the fridge, I contemplated eating something. I know I probably shouldn’t be drinking on an empty stomach, but it turns out there wasn’t much to choose from. I’m not even sure how long it’s been since I went to the grocery store. Well at least an empty stomach will get me feeling buzzed faster. I’m going to need that buzz if I fall into memories of Lucas and Haley and Riley-

No.

I pushed those thoughts away and let them float on. The only memories I want to fall into are of Riley. Of me and Riley together. 

I pulled one of our best days off the shelf of my mind and let myself relive it. I could smell the grass of the Great Lawn in Central Park and feel the warmth of the sunshine on my skin. My team was playing a softball game against a school uptown who used the diamonds in the Great Lawn as their field. I was the starting pitcher. Riley came to watch. She wore her cheerleading uniform and cheered for our team by herself, since the cheerleaders don’t usually cheer for the girl’s softball team. She was so cute.   
There’s something about softball and baseball that is so unique from other sports. It’s the only one where the defense is in control of the ball. This is why I grew to love pitching. It didn’t start off being a passion of mine, it was just something I happened to be good at. But the more I pitched, the more I fell under it’s spell. It gave me this wonderful feeling of control. I was the pitcher. This game was mine to win or lose, and as long as I kept control of the ball, then my team couldn’t lose. I would visualize the ball whizzing over the plate, into the catcher’s glove, and then I’d execute each pitch exactly how I envisioned it. It was like a high. Every strike I pitched gave me a high. It was addictive. I think the reason I pitched so well is because I became obsessed with it, this feeling that I had control over something in my life. I grew to need it, especially over the next few years of high school, when so many things in my life began spinning out of control.

I’m not sure if it was because I knew Riley was watching and I wanted to impress her, or if I was just having a really good game, but I pitched one of the best games I’d ever pitched. It was very close to being a no hitter, but we won regardless, and I got to stay in and pitch the whole game. 

“Peaches!” Riley wrapped me in a congratulatory hug. “You were amazing out there! I’m so proud of you.” I took my cap off, tossed it on the ground and pulled Riley in and kissed her. I didn’t care if all of my teammates and the other team were watching. I wanted to share this victory with the beautiful cheerleader who was rooting for me the whole time. 

Riley and I went for a walk through the park after the team dispersed. During the game, the clear sky became cloudier and more ominous looking. Seemed like a storm was rolling in. We weren’t worried about it though. I took Riley by the hand and lead her into the Ramble. It’s a section of the park where the landscape is left more undisturbed. It looks more like a forest than Central Park and trails all kind of wind into each other. If you don’t remember the way you came in, it’s pretty easy to get lost in. 

“Wait, Maya. Do you know the way out of here?” Riley asked as we entered the Ramble from the west side. 

“I know it’s in that general direction,” I said, pointing east. “If we just keep going that way, we will eventually run into either the boathouse or the lake, and we can follow the shoreline out.” 

She accepted this and we wandered through the trails admiring the trees, the flowers, the birds, and the squirrels. I was feeling pretty confident after pitching so well in that game. Definitely overconfident in my navigational abilities, but also bolder with Riley. 

As she finished snapping a picture of a squirrel on her phone, I came up behind her and wrapped her in my arms, kissing the side of her neck. She giggled and turned around to kiss me on the lips. I gently pushed her up against a tree trunk and started making out with her passionately. I let my hands wander down her body and settle on her hips. I pulled away from the kissing for a moment just to look at her.

“What Peaches?” she asked, self-consciously.   
“Do you have any idea how hot you look in this cheerleader outfit?” I asked, flirtatiously. It made her blush and smile real big. I love seeing her dimples come out.   
“You look pretty hot in your uniform yourself, Peaches,” she replied.   
“Really? in my dirty softball uniform?” I asked.   
She nodded and took my face in her hands so she could pull me in and captivate me with her lips again. 

God, I miss her kisses. 

I guess Riley has a type. Softball uniforms. Baseball uniforms. Blondes.


	3. Chapter 3

(Authors Note: WARNING MATURE CONTENT! LIKE VERY GAY, VERY MATURE CONTENT! Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Sorry this update took so long. I really struggled with this chapter, because I wanted to write it in a way that remained true to the character’s experience but didn’t turn it into smut, because it’s not that kind of story, you know? I’m not one to just write gratuitous sex scenes for the hell of it, but this one holds a significant meaning to Maya. Well I hope I somewhat succeeded. I guess you’ll let me know. Enjoy!)

 

We continued to make out intensely against that tree for awhile until we were interrupted by the sound of thunder in the distance. We looked up and saw dark grey clouds covering the sky that had been so clear and blue earlier in the day.

“Uh oh,” Riley said, slightly concerned. 

A few drops of rain started to fall. Not the drizzly kind, but the first few big drops warning you that a downpour is about to ensue. I looked around for some kind of shelter. It’s usually easy in the park to just run into a tunnel or under the arch of an overpass, but the Ramble is pretty much just trees every way you go. I took Riley by the hand and tried to find a way out but it was just trees in every direction. Every trail started to look the same and I wasn’t really sure of my sense of direction anymore. 

Riley tugged at my hand. “Look, Peaches,” she said pointing to a possible shelter she spotted.

It appeared to be some kind of treehouse. Well, not literally a treehouse, it wasn’t like up in a tree. It was on the ground, and it didn’t have solid walls. Gosh, I’m so bad at describing things when I’m drinking. Okay it was more like…uh…what do you call those things…a gazebo! Yeah, It was like a gazebo except instead of being round, it was long and rectangular. Instead of industrial wood, it was designed to look like it had been assembled out of logs and tree branches. 

Just as she spotted it, the sky opened up and heavy rain started pouring down on us. We tried to run to the treehouse, but the trail got really slippery. Riley slipped and started to fall but I caught her and helped her regain her footing. 

“You okay?” I asked.   
She nodded. “Nice catch,” she smiled. 

After that we just walked the rest of the way. There was no point in trying to outrun the rain when we were already drenched anyway. 

She lead me into the center of the treehouse, the part that would stay the most dry. Riley tossed her wet hair back, out of her face. She caught me staring and smiled. She was already incredibly hot in that cheerleader outfit, but somehow getting caught in the rain made me want her even more. 

“What?” she asked, as she got closer and wrapped her arms around my waist.   
“You’re all wet,” I noted.   
She leaned in and whispered in my ear, “You have no idea.”  
I blushed. I couldn’t believe my sweet, innocent princess was capable of such innuendo, but I loved it, so of course I played along.   
“Well, maybe I can help with that,” I said as I started kissing her neck. “Why don’t we start by getting you out of these wet clothes?” I can’t even believe I said something so bold, but I did, and she seemed to enjoy it. Her cheerleader outfit was a two piece, so I pulled up on her top and she helped me get it over her head. I glanced around to make sure that I was the only one here to see Riley in her bra. Nobody ever stays in the park during a storm anyway, certainly not in the Ramble. 

I opened my duffel bag and pulled out my towel, sprawling it across the floor of the treehouse for us to lie on. I positioned my duffel bag at the top of the towel to function as a pillow for us. I pulled her down and we both knelt down on the towel. I resumed kissing her neck as a flash of lightning and a crash of thunder startled her, causing her to gasp.

“You’re not afraid of thunder, are you Riles?” I asked.  
She shook her head. “Please. I AM thunder, remember?”   
She reached for my hand with the ring on it.   
“Ring Power,” she said. I clasped her hand with mine.   
“Ring Power,” I said.  
“Thunder,” she said.  
“Lightning,” I replied.

I started making out with her again despite the flashes of lightning and the rolling thunder. I never thought our first time together would be in a treehouse in the Ramble of Central Park in the middle of a thunderstorm, but it was actually kind of perfect. 

She unbuttoned my softball jersey and slid it off, and then she pulled up on my t-shirt that I was wearing under it. I pulled it over my head, so now we were both in our bras. I resumed kissing her neck as she glided her fingers up my back to unclasp my bra. I let my straps slip off, and then I unfastened her bra. 

I remember getting extremely nervous and not wanting it to show, so I buried my face in her neck again and kept kissing my way down her chest. Her breathing grew more rapid. 

“Peaches,” she said, holding onto my shoulders. I stopped and listened.  
She looked nervous too.   
“Yes, honey?”  
“Are you sure?” she asked.   
“Sure about what, baby?” I asked. She smiled.  
“Aww, you’ve never called me that before,” she said, beaming.   
I didn’t even realize that I had never called that before, but in this moment, it felt right.   
“It just came out because that’s how getting intimate with you makes me feel. Is that okay?” I asked.   
“Of course, it’s okay.” She seemed really happy about it.  
“Well if I had known it would make you smile this big, I might’ve called you that sooner,” I said.  
She just looked at me and smiled for a moment.  
“What’s on your mind?” I asked her.   
“Prom, because that was the last time we got this far and you said you weren’t ready,” she answered.   
“That was like ten months ago,” I said.   
“I just want to make sure that you know that there’s no pressure. I only want to do this if we’re both ready,” she explained.   
I knew I was lucky to be in such good hands. I took her hands from my shoulders and kissed each one.   
“You always take such good care of me. Thank you for that,” I started. I held on to her hands and looked into her eyes.   
“I’m ready. I’m sure. I love you, and I’m ready to make love to you, if you’ll let me, and if you want to,” I told her.   
“I do,” she answered. Leave it to Riley to answer like a wedding vow. Not gonna lie, hearing her say “I do” to me made my heart skip a beat. 

I laid her down on the towel and duffel bag and straddled her while kissing her passionately. 

It’s hard to recall every detail, but I try to because I don’t ever want this memory to fade away over time. 

I kissed my way down her body, harder, and with more urgency. I remember how her skin felt, and how it tasted. How soft and beautiful her breasts were. How amazing it felt when she touched mine. How she gasped when I put her nipple in my mouth. 

Of course I didn’t really know what I was doing. I mean I kind of had an idea, you know, from reading erotic girl on girl fan fiction online (hey doesn’t every teenage girl do that? I mean at least the queer ones do right?) Still, it was a little awkward at times. I’m sure everyone’s first time is. 

I remember being really nervous about sliding my finger into her vagina the first time. I didn’t want to hurt her. But she really wasn’t lying about being all wet, and knowing that I made her this wet made me blush. When my finger found what I believed to be her clitoris, her moans let me know I was right. God, she sounded so sexy. I knew exactly what I wanted to do next. I was scared of not doing it right, or not being good at it, but she seemed to be really enjoying everything I had been doing so far, so I went for it. 

I kissed my way down the rest of her body and went down on her. I replaced my finger with my tongue and started licking her clit. It drove her crazy. Her rapid breathing was off the charts. She stroked my head with her fingers and clutched my hair as she moaned with pleasure. I remember how she tasted. All wet and a little bit sweet, like honey and rain. I remember being worried that I might drown. It sounds silly now, but when it’s your first time you don’t know what to expect. I reached up and massaged one of her boobs while licking her and her hips bucked at the sensation. 

“Oh, fuck! Peaches,” she moaned breathlessly. That made me smile. I loved knowing I could make obscenities come of out her sweet, innocent mouth. 

I stopped touching her boob and instead used that hand to slowly and gently put one finger inside of her. Again, I worried about hurting her because it was our first time, and I had no idea what or how far she had ever gone by herself before. I guess we should’ve talked about that first. But I guess talking about masturbating is even more awkward than your first time having sex, at least for girls. It shouldn’t be that way, but it is. 

I slowly curled my finger up against the inside of her, around her pubic bone and tried to slide up toward her g-spot. I could feel her muscles tighten around my finger. I continued to lick her clit while slowly pumping my curled finger in and out of her. She was moaning like crazy. The way her body involuntarily was bucking up to meet my hand made it seem like she wanted it faster. I tried to match my rhythm to hers. I was about to try to add a second finger, but I didn’t need to. She let out the loudest moan. Her body shuddered with pleasure as she came hard against my hand. Thank goodness the storm outside was louder, or someone surely would’ve heard her. 

When she stopped moving and I could feel her muscles around my finger had relaxed, I pulled out of her and crawled back up to her eye level as she tried to catch her breath. I cuddled her with one arm. 

“Baby? Are you okay?” I asked.  
She said slowly, in between deep breaths, “You. Are. A. Goddess.”   
I giggled. “Oh, really?” I answered.   
She turned into me and I wrapped my other arm around her, cuddling her with both arms now.   
“So I take it, that was good for you?” I asked.   
Her head was on my shoulder and I could feel her smile.   
“Seriously, Peaches, that was incredible,” she replied.   
I rubbed her arm and planted a kiss on her forehead.   
“Good. I love you,” I said.  
“I love you too,” she said. 

She didn’t seem to need much recovery time. She rolled over on top of me and straddled me. She started making out with me passionately. 

BZZZZZ. What the- 

My phone startled me out of my daydream. I reached over for it, but the whiskey hit me right then, and my coordination was off. The phone slipped out of my hand as it vibrated again and hit the floor. 

Oh shit. Double OH SHIT!

The first Oh shit is because my screen shattered into like a million cracks. The next Oh shit was because the caller on my screen was Riley. 

Fuck. Can she still read my mind? All the way from Texas? Does she know I was just thinking about her? About us? About me giving her an orgasm? AWKWARD.

No, I’m being ridiculous. She couldn’t possibly know. But then why is she calling me? Maybe something bad happened. What if something is wrong? UGH, what do I do? I’m starting to doubt that I can even possibly slide my finger across this broken screen without cutting myself. 

Should I try to answer? What do I do?


	4. Chapter 4

(Author’s Note: Sorry for the delayed update and for this chapter being so short, I’ve been trying to catch up on my courses lately. I wanted to briefly show Riley’s side of the call, and since they are apart, I want to keep Maya’s POV’s and Riley’s POV’s in separate chapters for now. I’ll be back to post Maya’s next chapter soon.)

Riley’s POV 

I waited as the phone rang 4 times. No answer. Darn. I guess I’m not surprised. The last time I saw her, we left things kind of…unresolved I guess. I knew I wasn’t going to leave a voicemail but I waited to listen to her greeting anyway, just to hear her voice. “Hey, it’s Maya. My inbox is probably full from the voicemails I never check. Text me.” I laughed. Wow, Maya. 

And of course her inbox was indeed full. Good thing I wasn’t planning to leave a voicemail anyway. 

I was taking a nap earlier and I was dreaming, except it wasn’t really a dream, it was a memory of us. It was right after our first time together in the park. She had made love to me first, and then we switched, and after I held her close while she tried to catch her breath. The storm had calmed down by then. There was no more thunder or lightning, just moderate rain. We cuddled a bit longer and listened to the rain. 

“I found something the other day in a closet. It was a VHS tape,” I began.   
“Wow, vintage. What movie was it?” she asked.  
“It was a documentary style video project that my parents made when they were in school,” I explained.  
“So, I take it you watched it then?” she inferred.   
“Yeah, I had to dig out the old VCR and I facetimed with Farkle so he could walk me through how to set it up,” I answered. “It was a project for their English class. They were reading Much Ado About Nothing.”  
“Never heard of it,” Maya said.  
“It’s Shakespeare,” I said.   
“Oh, yeah I try to avoid him,” Maya remarked.  
“What do you got against Shakespeare?” I asked.  
“Nothin! i just don’t know what his characters are trying to say, like ever,” she admitted.  
“Well in the play, this girl named Hero-“  
“-Wait, the girl’s name is Hero?” she interrupted.  
“Yes.”  
“Huh. I might like this story,” she wondered.   
“She’s supposed to marry her love, Claudio, but these jerks trick Claudio into believing that Hero cheated on him and slept with another guy so Claudio called off the wedding and her reputation was ruined.”  
“Nevermind, I don’t like this story.”  
“So, Uncle John-“  
“You mean Mr. Turner?” she clarified.  
“Yeah, he assigned the class to interview each other about their opinions on love and sex in a documentary.”   
“I might want to watch this movie,” she said smiling.   
I turned to face her, and she turned her head as well so our eyes could meet.   
I continued, “My mom said she thought sex was a part of a special kind of love that you feel for a very special person.”   
“Aww, precious Topanga,” Maya gushed.  
“I think she’s right,” I smiled.   
“Of course you do baby, you get that from her,” she said, smiling back at me. I blushed at her calling me “baby”.   
“And she is right. What did Shawn say?” Maya asked.  
I cringed. “You don’t want to know.”  
Maya giggled. I miss her laugh so much.   
“But Mr. Turner spoke the truest words when my dad interviewed him,” I said.  
Maya’s eyes returned to mine as she listened.  
“He said ‘love is the most important thing in the world, Matthews, and love is the only thing that makes sex worth having’” I quoted him.  
Maya smiled and said “I completely agree with him.”   
“So do I, Peaches. I’m really happy my first time was with you,” I said as I leaned in to kiss her.  
“Me too,” she said as we parted lips. “Because I have always loved you, Riley Matthews,” she took my hand, the one with the ring on it, in hers and planted a kiss on it, “and I always will.” 

I could feel myself smiling the same smile I gave her that day when she said that. It’s amazing that no matter how many years ago it was, I can still remember that moment and I can still feel that same feeling like it was yesterday. I don’t know why that memory was in my head while I was napping today, but I wonder if Maya if ever thinks about that day too.

“What’s that goofy smile about?”

I looked up, surprised to see Zay standing in the doorway of my dorm room. I held up my phone and fibbed “Oh, I was just watching this cute youtube video…of…um…purple cats…” 

“Riiighhht. Well I’m on my way to the dining hall to meet Vanessa and grab some food. Do you want to join?” he offered. 

“Oh, I’m not really hungry,” I said.  
“Because you miss Lucas, right?” Zay speculated. 

Well, there is SOMEONE that I am deeply missing right now. 

“C’mon,” he persisted, “I told Lucas I’d take good care of you while he was out of town, and if I’m not making sure that you’re eating, then I’m not doing my job.” 

Zay was flashing that charming smile of his. I guess I can’t argue with that. I nodded and smiled back and followed him out toward the dining hall. 

I guess I can text Maya later, or wait and see if she calls me back.


	5. Chapter 5

(Author’s note: I’ve had this scene in my head for awhile. I really wanted to write more Smackle into the story because she wasn’t in Girl meets Complicated very much, and I feel like she makes a nice foil to Maya in this chapter. Hope you like it. Thanks for reading <3 PS I claim no ownership of the song lyrics referred to in this chapter.)

Maya's POV

"Ow," I tried to swipe my finger across the severely cracked screen to answer Riley's call but I couldn't even swipe it all the way. It wouldn't connect. This phone is going to be useless unless I fix the screen. I guess I better go to the Apple Store.

I took a shower and got dressed and headed out towards the Apple Store. I could've taken the subway but it's not that far so I just walked. I guess I should probably get something to eat while I'm out and I'll need to pick up another bottle of Jameson on the way home. Luckily there’s still a little left in the flask in my purse. Yes, I have a flask in my purse. Don’t judge me. 

I walked into the Apple Store and was shocked to see a familiar face on her way out.

"Maya?"  
"Smackle?"

I opened my arms and she indulged me in a very quick, somewhat awkward hug. I guess she's still not big on hugging but that's okay. I noticed that she was wearing one of the Apple Store T shirts, the same kind the people at the Genius Bar wear. She must be working here. How appropriate.

"Congrats on graduating from Princeton and everything," I said.  
“Thanks. I’m just working here temporarily until I decide if I want to go to graduate school right away or do some research first. I’ve applied for some fellowships and I’m waiting to hear back,” she explained. I nodded. “What brings you here?” she asked. I showed her my phone and she understood. She took the phone from me. “I’ll take care of this for you, be right back.”

I hopped on facebook on one of the macbook air display models while she was gone. I just wanted to double to check…yup…Smackle really did unfriend me on Facebook. She didn’t unfriend Riley, or Lucas, or Zay, just me. I hardly ever use my Facebook so I barely even noticed but I was surprised. Should I ask her about it? I mean she’s being friendly to me right now, but I guess it’s kind of her job to be. Ugh. Smack, what did I do?

She was walking back over to me so I quickly closed the browser.   
“Good news,” she said. “The damage was only superficial, to the screen, and we should be able to replace the screen and restore your phone back to full functionality.”   
“That’s great!” I said.  
“My shift just ended, but I got them started on it, it will probably just take an hour or two. Whenever I get the email saying it’s ready, I’ll forward it to you. I put it in the system as if it were my phone so it would be free for you.” 

“Aww Smack, you didn’t have to, but thank you.” I said graciously.  
She’s being so nice to me. Now I really want to why she unfriended me. 

“Well, like I said, my shift is over so I was just heading out-“   
I interrupted her , “Do you mind if I walk with you? I do have an hour or two to kill with no phone.” 

“Um, alright,” she agreed. 

We left the apple store and walked down the street. I tried to maintain casual conversation at first. “It’s a beautiful day today.” 

“Yes, the weather is quite pleasant,” she agreed. 

“So tell me about your research.”  
“I would if I thought you would understand it.”   
Ouch. I don’t know how to respond. She has a point though.  
“I didn’t mean that to come out as condescending as it sounds,” she said, apologetically.   
“Oh, its fine. I went to art school. They only required one science class. So unless your research is in the kind of physics that deals with optics and light, you’re right, I probably wouldn’t understand. I’m not offended by that.”   
“Tell me about your art,” she replied.   
“I would if I thought you would understand it.” I smirked at her.   
She raised her eyebrows. “Touche, Ms. Hart.” 

I followed her as we walked through a small park. She probably cuts through here because it saves 2.6 minutes of walking time on her commute, because she’s precise and practical like that. Well, sorry to delay you today, Smackle, but we need to talk about this. 

I jogged ahead, and turned around directly in front of her so she would have to stop walking and face me.   
“Smackle, can we just talk for a minute? I mean without walking.”  
“What about?” she asked.   
“Why we aren’t friends anymore.” I said.   
“It’s nothing personal. I just don’t really have any friends anymore,” she said.  
“But you’re still friends with everyone else from high school except me,” I said.  
“Ah, you’re referring to facebook,” she understood.   
“Yeah, Smack. Why did you unfriend me and only me? Did I do something wrong?” I asked.   
She sighed and sat down on the empty bench we had stopped in front of. I sat down on the bench too but not right next her. I remember she never liked being sat right next to except for Farkle.   
“You’re his best friend, Maya,” she said.   
“But I’m still your friend too. You know that right?” I asked.   
“I unfriended you the same day I unfriended him. The day I broke up with him. Because you’re his best friend and you were both here. He and I both graduated early but I was still doing an internship in New Jersey after and he came back here. I knew you were here. I knew he would need you. I broke his heart. He needed you more than I did. So I gave you up. I’m sorry if it hurt you.”

Wow. I never thought about it like that. 

“And while I‘m apologizing to you, I should tell you that-“ she turned to face me on the bench.   
“That I‘m really sorry about your mother, Maya.”

I hate when I’m reminded that she’s gone. If I can stay buzzed enough throughout the day, I usually don't notice. It’s like she’s just working late or something. But on the days that I’m made aware of the fact that she’s really gone, I feel her absence like Smackle would feel the absence of her glasses if I took them off her face. It’s the lack of something you need so much to function, and trying to adapt without it that just leaves you floundering. 

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you,” Smackle said, earnestly.  
“It’s okay-“ I started to say.  
“-It’s not. I should’ve reached out to you,” she interjected.  
“Smack, I totally get it now. You’re right, Farkle did need me after you broke up. And I needed him after my mom died. And you couldn’t possibly be there for me, knowing that he would be there for me, because you had just broken up with him and you needed your space from him. I completely understand,” I assured her. 

“But I didn’t even call, or send you my condolences. I should’ve sent flowers or something. Gosh, you know I’m so bad with these social rituals.” She seemed really frustrated with her self about this.

“Well that isn’t your fault,” I said. I wouldn’t ever expect her to be good with social rituals. No one with Asperger’s should be held to that expectation. But she’s brilliant in so many other ways.

“That’s why I had to end it with Farkle.”   
“Because you’re bad with social rituals?” I asked, perplexed. 

“Social rituals. Romance. Expressing my feelings. Being sensitive to a his feelings. Intimacy.” She started shaking her head. 

“I’m just not built for these things. I tried so hard to assimilate. To be like one of you. But if I’m being honest, I was just performing tasks, just playing the role of girlfriend without being able to really be a girlfriend to him in the moment. Because all of those things are so incomprehensible to me. I’m a master at physics, yet the intimacy of the physicality of interpersonal relationships baffles me.”

This is the girl who explained sex to us in our ninth grade health class. It makes sense now. She could explain it because she didn’t feel anything about it. It didn’t make her nervous or uncomfortable. She understood the mechanics of it, just not the emotions. But it made Farkle drop like a fly. I think he passed out twice. 

“Making love is awkward for everyone, Smackle,” I said trying to console her.   
“He deserves someone who can be more emotional with him, not someone like me. Our intellectual connection can only take us so far,” she said with what I thought was a hint of regret in her voice. 

I have to drink to numb my emotions enough to just get through the day and she’s sitting her wishing she could feel them. What a pair we are. 

“You’re lucky. Emotions are terrible.” I said.   
“Sometimes I feel like I’m the tin man from the Wizard of Oz. Except there’s no wonderful wizard who can give me a heart,” she admitted.  
“You’re not heartless, Smackle.” I told her.   
“Might as well be. That’s how I come off to people because of my lack of ability to have sensitivity to their feelings.”   
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I‘m the cowardly lion,” I said.   
“How so?”  
“I can’t face anything in my life, I can’t deal with my emotions, so I escape them,” I said, pulling out the flask from my purse and taking a shot of Jameson. I offer it to her, but she turns me down.  
“I don’t drink alcohol, it kills your brain cells,” she said.  
“Well, then I guess I’ll never understand your research.” She laughed at my joke.   
“You came out as a lesbian at 14. You’re not cowardly, Maya.”  
“Then what am I?”   
“Grieving” she said. 

A street musician was sitting across the walkway from us. I recognized him. He had a guitar with him today. How strange. I remember him as a drummer. 

“Do you like country music, Smack?”  
She followed my gaze across to his guitar.  
“You’re gonna sing aren’t you?” she predicted.  
“You’re such a genius.”  
I grabbed her hand and lead her over to the street musician’s bench

“Hey Weasel.”   
His eyes lit up when he saw me. He used to play drums in the Bleecker street subway station. I used to see him all the time on my way to school.   
“Maya! Look at you, all grown up, yet you haven’t grown an inch.”  
I narrowed my eyes at his comment.  
“I’m just messing with you. Who’s the new chic?” he asked  
“This is my friend, Isadora.” They smiled and nodded at each other.  
“Where’s your old chic?” he asked. He means Riley.   
“She’s in Texas now. What happened to your drums?” I asked.   
“They’re in Texas now,”  
Ha! He’s got jokes.  
“Hey Weasel, you mind if I borrow your guitar to play my friend a song?”  
He picked up his guitar and handed it to me. “Go for it” 

Smackle and I sat down on the bench and I started playing Miranda Lambert’s song, Tin Man. 

“Hey there Mr. Tin Man,” I started singing to Smackle. She smiled.

“You don’t know how lucky you are,   
You shouldn't spend your whole life wishin'  
For something bound to fall apart  
Every time you're feeling empty  
Better thank your lucky stars  
If you ever felt one breakin’  
You'd never want a heart

OOooooh, Ooooh, ooh.  
OOooooh, Ooooh, ooh.

Hey there, Mr. Tin Man  
You don't know how lucky you are  
I've been on the road that you're on  
It didn't get me very far  
You ain't missin’ nothin'  
'Cause love is so damn hard  
Take it from me, darlin’  
You don't want a heart

OOooooh, Ooooh, ooh.  
OOooooh, Ooooh, ooh.

Hey there, Mr. Tin Man  
I'm glad we talked this out  
You can take mine if you want it  
It's in pieces now  
By the way there, Mr. Tin Man  
If you don't mind the scars  
You give me your armor  
And you can have my heart

OOooooh, Ooooh, ooh.  
OOooooh, Ooooh, ooh.”

I finished the song and handed the guitar back to Weasel and said “Thanks.”  
“Anytime. That was beautiful.” 

I looked back at Smackle and she had taken her glasses off and was wiping her eyes.  
“Smack, are those tears?”  
She looked at up me, and I definitely spotted tear tracks on her cheeks. I wanted to wipe them away but I didn’t know if she’d be comfortable with me touching her face.  
“Well Tin man, looks like you’ve got a heart in there after all,” I said. 

“Maya,” she sniffled. “Do you remember that broken clock I gave you for secret santa?”  
I smiled. She made me cry when she explained why she was giving that to me. I guess we’re even now. That clock is still one of the most beautiful and thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received from anyone in my life.  
“Of course. I still have it. It’s very special to me,” I told her.   
“Did you ever fix it?” she asked.   
I nodded. “I did.”   
“It’s going to return the favor,” she said.  
“Time is gonna fix me?” I asked her.  
“Yeah,” she nodded. “It will.”   
“Thanks.” I smiled.   
“Hey Maya, please don’t mention to Farkle that I’m back from New Jersey. I wouldn’t want him to think that I came back for him,” she said.   
“Did you?” I boldly asked.   
She looked at me for a moment with a look I’d never seen on her before. It looked like uncertainty. Then her phone dinged. She pulled it out and checked the notification. She showed it to me. “That’s the email from the store. Your phone is ready.”   
“I guess I should go pick it up,” I said, standing up from the bench. “But it was really great to see you again, Smackle.”  
“Yeah, well you know where to find me now, so don’t be a stranger,” she said.   
She stood up and awkwardly opened her arms. I held up my hands and shook my head.  
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to perform any social rituals for me-“  
“Shut up and get over here.” She moved in closer and hugged me. A real hug. Our first ever real hug in all the years we’ve known each other. And she initiated it. Wow.   
“I love you, genius.” I told her, without expectation.   
We said goodbye, and I headed back to the Apple store to pick up my phone.   
When I got it back, I had a facebook friend request from Smackle, which I quickly accepted, and a text message from Riley:

“Hey. I called you earlier but you didn’t answer and your voicemail was full. Sorry if I’m interrupting anything, I was just wondering if we could talk. Can you call me tonight?” 

Okay, Riles. Whatever you want.


	6. Chapter 6

Maya’s POV

I needed to be prepared for this. I picked up a hot dog from the street cart on the corner since I forgot about getting food. I didn’t even bother with condiments. I was just eating it out of necessity. I used to love food. Now I just eat so my drinking won’t make me sick. I’ve never puked from drinking. I guess that’s because I’m Irish, and maybe the fact that Jameson is Irish whiskey helps too. 

After finishing my hot dog I unpacked my liquor store supplies. One bottle of Jameson. One bottle of Sparkling water. One bottle of butterscotch schnapps. One bottle of orange juice. 

I grabbed a large shot glass and a regular glass and prepared my favorite shot. Some people call it a mcgriddle shot or a mcdonald’s breakfast shot. It’s a doubleshot: one shot of Jameson, one shot of butterscotch schnapps, followed by an orange juice chaser. It tastes like pancake syrup and orange juice. 

I knocked back the liquor and gulped down the orange juice. Damn that was good. 

I know why she’s calling. At least I think I know. I'm gonna need another drink. Make that two.

I made another pancake shot, and after downing that, I made my usual Jameson and sparkling water in a regular glass to sip on during the call.

Ahh, I feel so much better now. 

I picked up my phone and called Riley back.

“Maya?”  
“Hey Riles.”  
“Hey. I’m so glad you called me back,” Riley said sincerely.   
“Are you alright?” I asked.  
“Yeah, I’m fine.”   
“Okay good. I thought you might have called because something happened.”  
“No, I’m fine. Everything is fine.” 

Except when a girl says she’s fine she’s never actually fine.   
“How are you?” she asked me.  
“Oh you know me, I‘m always okay,” I lied through my teeth. 

Riley’s POV

She’s not okay. And we’re not okay. And we need to talk about it now, before Lucas gets back. 

“Maya, we never talked about-“ I started.  
“I know.” she cut me off.   
“I think we’ve put it off long enough.” I said.   
“Did you tell Huckleberry?” she asked.   
“Obviously not, Maya.” I answered.   
“Why not?” she asked “It’s been a few months now. That’s a long time to keep-“  
This time I cut her off.  
“Because I haven’t even talked to YOU about it yet. How can I possibly tell him anything if we haven’t talked this out yet ourselves?” I countered. 

This is why we need to talk about it and we need to talk about it now. 

“I know you wanted time or space or whatever, and I gave you that, but I can’t go on pretending like nothing happened,” I said. 

“Okay,” she said.  
“Okay?” Like is that all she’s going to say?  
“Whatever you want,” she said, like she always used to.   
“Why did you leave?” I asked her.   
“To avoid this conversation that we’re having right now,” she answered.   
“And you wanted to avoid it for the past three to four months? Why?” I asked.  
…silence…

“Maya? are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Well?”

Maya’s POV

I was right. I thought this was the reason she called, and it is. The last time we saw each other was when she came back for my mom’s funeral a few months ago. I was a mess. An emotional, impulsive, reckless mess. And I made such a mess of everything. And then I ran away. Because I was already barely holding it together, you see, and I just couldn’t bare to hear her call it a mistake. 

Riley’s POV  
I can’t believe she’s still avoiding this, even now. I waited. She eventually answered. 

“Because I was a mess. I couldn’t even sleep that night. I held you and listened to you snore-“  
“I do not snore,” I corrected her.  
“Oh honey, you snore.”   
“Do I really?” How did I not know this.   
“Hasn’t Ranger Rick ever told you that?”  
“Lucas doesn’t spend the night. We both share our dorms with a roommate. It’s against the rules, not to mention awkward,” I explained.  
“So how do you…um…?”   
Is she really asking me what I think she’s asking me?  
“Well we really haven’t had that many opportunities to,” I replied.   
“But you two have done it right?” she pressed.  
“Yeah, sometimes, when I know my roommate is going to be gone for awhile, I tell him to come over. And we do it, and then he goes back to his room.”

Maya’s POV  
Omg. gross. Why did I even ask? Ew! Please get this Rucas sex visual out of my head. I’ve never puked from drinking but I might puke from this. I gagged. 

Riley’s POV  
Did she just gag?  
“Um, Maya?”

Maya’s POV  
I cringed. “Wow, Riles. That sounds so romantic.”  
“Fuck you and your sarcasm.” Wow, Riley’s mouth has gotten dirtier. I like it.   
“Well if you insist, darling,” I flirted. Maybe I had one drink too many before this phone call.   
“I already did. I already fucked you and you left and that is literally what we are talking about right now Maya, can you focus please?” she said, frustrated.   
“Okay, sorry. Well as I was saying, you were snoring-“  
“Yes. I’m a Snorlax. Go on,” she remarked.   
Okay, here goes.   
“I watched you sleep and I just kept imagining you waking up in my arms instead of his and I was afraid that when you opened your beautiful eyes…” I sighed.   
“What?” she coaxed.  
“That I’d see regret in them, and I couldn’t handle that Riles. Not at that moment anyway. I couldn’t take that chance. I’m sorry that I just left you like that without an explanation. You don’t deserve to be treated that way. I just hope you can understand.”

Riley’s POV  
I had a feeling that was why. This is a typical Maya move. Do something incredible that changes the dynamics of our relationships and then run away scared. She’s been doing it ever since she first kissed me in the bay window in 8th grade and then ran away to Shawn because she was afraid of my reaction. 

“I understand,” I said.  
“You do?”  
“I’m relieved, honestly,” I admitted.   
“You are?”  
“I was afraid that you were avoiding me because you hated me,” I revealed.   
“Riley, I could never hate you,” she said, emphatically.   
“But you would have every right to. We were drinking. You had just suffered a tremendous loss. I wanted to comfort you. I wanted to take your pain away. But getting so close to you, while we were drinking, with our emotions running high, that was irresponsible of me. You were vulnerable. I shouldn’t have-“ she cut me off.  
“Stop. Don’t ever say that you shouldn’t have. I don’t care if it was right or if it was wrong. I don’t regret it,” Maya said.  
“I don’t regret it either, Peaches. But I do care about whether it was right or wrong.”   
“Of course you do. You wouldn’t be Riley if you didn’t,” she said.   
“I never meant to wrong you,” I said  
“I’m not the one you wronged this time,” she replied.   
Well, she got me there. After a few moments of silence she said,  
“Listen, honey. I want you to ask yourself the real reason why you haven’t told Lucas yet, and call me back when you have the answer for me, okay? I gotta go,” Maya said, and then she ended the call. 

I guess I have a lot to think about. *sighs*


	7. Chapter 7

(Author's Note: Sorry I kept you waiting so long for this update! Thanks for reading.)

Riley’s POV

“Thanks for coming over,” I said to Vanessa, grabbing a couple of Miller Lite’s out of my dorm room mini fridge. I handed one to her. We sat on my bed. Unfortunately dorm rooms don’t come with bay windows, so the bed will have to do. 

“Are you okay, Riley?” she asked. 

“Not really.” I admitted.   
“What’s going on?” she asked. 

I took a few sips of my beer. “Promise me you won’t say anything to Zay about this?”   
“Okay, I won’t,” she agreed. “But now I’m worried.” 

“I think I need to break up with Lucas.” I sighed.  
Vanessa looked shocked. “But weren’t you guys planning to join the Peace Corps together, like right after graduation?” she asked. 

Lucas and I had been talking about the Peace Corps since high school. I can still remember the discussion that sparked the idea. It was sophomore year. Our whole group sat down to have lunch together in the cafeteria and Zay was pretty riled up about something. 

“Your dad lied to us!,” he declared rather loudly, slamming down his lunch tray. 

“Hey man, are you okay?” Lucas asked him, surprised to see his best friend so aggravated.

“You mean my dad?” I asked.

He looked at me like it should’ve been obvious. “No, I meant her dad,” he replied sneeringly, pointing at Maya. I glared at him for this unwarranted comment. 

“I’m sure he did Zay,” Maya responded calmly. “He’s already trying to ruin my life all over again, so I wouldn’t put anything past him.”   
“Please don’t make Maya’s dad the subject of your sarcasm right now, Zay,” I scolded him.

“I’m sorry, Maya,” he softened his tone as he apologized to her. “I didn’t mean-“  
She waved her hand at him. “I know. It’s fine.” She turned to me. “I’m fine,” she assured me. 

I knew she wasn’t fine. After Shawn and Katy got married, Shawn wanted to adopt Maya, and she was thrilled. All they needed was for Maya’s dad to terminate his parental rights. He had basically abandoned her in every possible way but the legal way for the past decade. Nobody expected him to put up a fight now. He sure shocked us all. Not only did he not want to sign away his parental rights so Shawn could adopt Maya, he decided to take Katy to court to sue for full custody of Maya. Maya was so…wait…I’m digressing. This is a story for another flashback. More about that later. Back to the cafeteria. 

“So why are you pissed at Matthews?” Maya asked Zay. 

“Remember that ‘lesson’ he taught us,” (he made air quotes around the word “lesson”) “about Hurricane Katrina?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Of course, I remember. He called on me and made me answer his question,” Maya replied. 

“Of course you remember, Maya, because he made that lesson about you,” Zay’s tone sounded a bit accusatory. 

“That’s not her fault though,” I defended her.   
“Zay, why are you upset about this now?” Lucas asked.

Zay turned to Lucas “And you didn’t help either with your sunshiny talk about ‘Hurricane picnics’ and ‘Hurricane barbecues’,” Zay said with more air quotes. 

“I was just speaking about my experience being there,” Lucas answered. 

“I like the way Matthews teaches us,” Maya spoke up for my dad.

Farkle chimed in too. “Good teachers find ways to relate the content to their student’s lives. It makes school more relevant and keeps students interested.” 

Zay turned to Farkle, “Yeah, except Hurricane Katrina had nothing to do with Maya. It’s not some metaphor for hope for anyone.” 

He turned to me. “I just learned about it in my African American studies elective. Your dad failed to mention that 1800 people died.” 

I dropped me spork. “Oh my gosh,” I said. 

“Kanye West was right when he said George W. Bush didn’t care about black people,” Zay continued.   
“Eighteen hundred people?” Maya asked in disbelief. Zay nodded.  
This new information really disturbed me. “Why didn’t anybody help them get out?!” I asked.   
“That’s a great question, Riley. One you should’ve been able to ask your history teacher, if only he had actually taught us the facts,” Zay said. 

The more I thought about it the more it upset me. We can forecast extreme weather. We can tell when a Category 5 hurricane is coming. We know New Orleans is below sea level. We can evacuate people to higher ground before the storm gets closer. Why didn’t we?   
I just kept shaking my head, vehemently. It was just all so incomprehensible to me. 

“Riles?” Maya put her arm around me. “Are you okay?”   
“Preventable,” I said. “Every single one of those deaths could have been prevented, or at least a vast majority of them.” 

“But what can we do about it now?” Maya asked. 

That hope she had during that Katrina lesson was a distant memory. Her hope had been fading lately because of her home situation. I can understand why, I mean, her family’s future was being decided by a court and what could she do about it?

“I don’t know but I want to do something about it. I always have. It’s why I pitched that idea to your dad,” I said, turning to Farkle, “about turning Halloween into Malaria day. People are dying from Malaria because they don’t have access to something as simple as a mosquito net. Again, more deaths that are preventable. Someone should be helping them. I want to help them.” 

“I remember that lesson. Your dad taught us that most of the world lives on less then two dollars a day,” Lucas said. 

“Yeah, and a mosquito net costs five dollars,” Farkle said. 

“So the difference between life and death for these people is three dollars?” Maya asked, incredulously. 

“That’s exactly why money spent on halloween candy would be better spent on mosquito nets,” I contended. 

“What did Mr. Minkus say about your idea?” Haley asked me.   
“He didn’t go for it,” I said.   
“Yeah my pitch tanked too,” Lucas said.  
“What was your pitch?” Haley asked Lucas.  
“World Peace,” he replied.   
“Awwwwwww!” Haley gushed.  
“No, please don’t -“ Lucas tried to stop her.  
“But that’s so adorable!” she continued.  
But that’s what sparked my idea. When he said the word “Peace” it just clicked. 

“That’s it! Lucas, you’re a genius!” I exclaimed.  
“Uh no, I’m the genius. He’s an idiot with a face,” Farkle said.   
“I’m not a genius, I’m not adorable, and I’m not an idiot with a face! I am a secure western hero!” Lucas proclaimed confidently.   
“Yes you are!” Zay agreed and patted Lucas on the back.

“The Peace Corps! I can join the Peace Corps, maybe after college. I can go to Africa with them and distribute mosquito nets to people. I can actually help prevent some preventable deaths. I can actually do something,” I said, beaming at this revelation. 

Maya smiled at me, “Have I told you lately, how amazing you are?” she said.  
I blushed at her compliment. 

“That’s a great idea, Riley. I think I’d like to do it with you,” Lucas said.  
“You would? Do you really mean that?” I asked him.  
“Yes. Your dad is always telling us to ‘Dream. Try. Do good.’ I may not be able to accomplish World Peace, but I can bring peace of mind to people if they know they won’t have to worry about mosquitoes giving them malaria,” he said. 

“Riley? Earth to Riley?”  
Vanessa’s voice snapped me back to the present.

“Yeah, sorry, what was that you said?” I asked her. 

“Weren’t you and Lucas going to join the Peace Corps together?” she asked.

“Sure, that was the plan, but Lucas is out of town right now interviewing with Veterinary schools. I thought he was going to put that on hold and serve in the Peace Corps with me first, but then why would he be interviewing now? I mean I guess they could be informational interviews, but still, I get the feeling he’s not into the Peace Corps plan anymore,” I said. 

Vanessa looked perplexed. “Back up. I’m confused.”   
“What about?” I asked.  
“Are you saying that Lucas told you that the reason he went out of town right after his last final was to check out Veterinary schools?” she asked, looking concerned.   
I nodded slowly. What is she implying?  
“Okay, that’s weird because that is not what he told Zay,” Vanessa revealed.  
Now I’m sure I was the one looking perplexed. “What did he tell Zay?”  
“He’s going to meet with some baseball scout, for a tryout or something,” Vanessa said.  
“I didn’t know Veterinary schools had baseball teams.” I said, surprised.   
Vanessa shook her head. “No sweetie. I’m talking about Major League. Zay wasn’t supposed to tell me, but he was so excited for Lucas, he couldn’t keep it to himself.” 

I could feel my eyes widen and my jaw drop involuntarily. 

She continued, “He went to Dallas to meet someone from the Texas Rangers. The draft is coming up soon and Zay thinks The Rangers are interested in Lucas for their draft pick.” 

“WHAT?!” I got up from the bed and started pacing. I guzzled my beer. 

“Please don’t tell Zay that I told you any of that,” Vanessa requested.

“I don’t understand. I’m his girlfriend. Why would he lie to me about something like this?” I asked, pacing and binge drinking at the same time. 

“I’m guessing to avoid this reaction?” Vanessa supposed. 

“This reaction is to the lying part, not the baseball part,” I said. 

“But he probably knew that getting drafted would put an end to your Peace Corps plans. If they pick him, he’s going to Dallas. Maybe he wanted to wait and see if it actually happened before letting you down,” Vanessa reasoned. 

This seemed rational. But I kept pacing and chugging beer and talking really fast. I couldn’t help it. My words were trying to keep up with my racing thoughts. “It’s not just the Peace Corps, Vanessa. It would completely change our relationship. He would be in Dallas and I don’t know if I want to move to Dallas. I’ve never even been to Dallas. Let’s say I did move there. He’s only going be there half the year right? The other half is on the road at away games and spring training, and I don’t even know anybody in Dallas-“ 

“I’m cutting you off,” Vanessa got up from the bed and took the beer out of my hand.   
“I can’t believe that Zay knew and you knew, but he didn't tell me. This is a huge deal! Couples are supposed to make life changing decisions together!” I exclaimed. 

“Okay, sweetie, please come back from crazy town and breathe,” Vanessa pleaded.   
“You mean Rileytown.”  
“Yes, please come back from there.” She took my hand and lead me back to the bed. 

“Look, you said you thought you needed to break up with Lucas before you even knew about this, so what was it that got you feeling that way in the first place?” Vanessa asked. 

I looked at her, not sure how to respond.

“Did something happen?” she asked.

Something definitely happened. But right now the only people who know about it are Maya and myself. Just then my phone rang. Saved by the ringtone I guess.

I checked the screen.  
“It’s Lucas,” I told her. 

“Well, I‘ll leave you to it,” she said giving me a quick hug.  
“Thanks, Vanessa” I said as she left my dorm room. 

I answered the phone “Hey Lucas.”  
“Hey Riley. I’m on my way back and I was wondering, if you were still awake, maybe we could talk,” he said.  
“Yeah, I’ll wait up for you,” I said.

We definitely need to talk.


	8. Chapter 8

(Author’s note: I know I suck for taking forever to update this. Thank you to those of you who reached out to me in either PM’s or comments or DM’s on instagram about this story. It is not done, it’s still in progress, I’ve just been busy, but I really need to make more time for writing, because writing makes me happy. Hmm…that actually sounds like a good New Year’s resolution. Thanks for reading! Happy Holidays!) 

Maya’s POV

It’s Sunday. Finally. I mean, know I’ve only been back to work at my internship for half a week but still. The past few days were kind of intense. Since I needed to catch up on all the tasks that had been neglected because of my absence, I had to come in on Saturday too. At least I have today off. I wouldn’t usually bother getting out of bed before noon on a Sunday, but a certain old friend was finally coming home and seeing her is worth existing in the AM hours for. 

“Ready for Brunch?” she texted.   
“On my way.” I replied. 

I haven’t seen Haley in quite awhile. She wasn’t able to come back for my mom’s funeral because of school. She went to Cornell University upstate in Ithaca. When she asked me if I wanted to go to Bottomless Brunch with her I had no idea what that was. Then she explained it’s all you can drink mimosas and bloody mary’s and I was sold. 

“Cheers to your fancy Ivy League degree,” I congratulated her as we clinked our glasses. I downed my first mimosa in 30 seconds and immediately ordered a second. Haley laughed. “Relax, Maya. Bottomless Brunch lasts until 1:30. It’s only 11:00.”   
“I know, but we have so much to catch up on and I need to be less sober for it,” I replied.  
“Oh really? Is there a new special someone I don’t know about?” she asked.  
“You already know her.” I said.   
Haley’s jaw dropped first and then her eyes widened as she realized who I meant. Then she downed the rest of her mimosa too. Luckily the waiter quickly replaced our empty glasses with a second round. 

“Explain yourself,” she prompted.  
“It’s complicated,” I answered.  
“So does this mean what I think it means?” Haley asked, trying to stifle a grin.   
“Nope.”   
“How do you even know what I’m thinking?” she asked.   
“Because it’s always about Lucas with you,” I said.   
“Well, it’s always about Riley with you.”   
“Touche”   
We guzzled our second round of mimosas. I signaled to the waiter for another round.  
“Bloody Mary for me, this time,” Haley called out. I glared at her.   
“What?” she questioned my judgmental look.   
“WHY?” I asked, referring to her change in drink choice.   
“Because Bloody Mary’s can’t be guzzled. They’re too spicy.”  
“Exactly why I’m questioning your decision,” I replied.  
“Because I need to slow down. I’m not Irish like you,” Haley answered.   
“You’re German. Didn’t they invent Octoberfest?”   
“You don’t guzzle beer at Octoberfest, besides binge drinking is so college, and we are graduating.”   
“So what? How are we supposed to drink now?” I asked.   
“Responsibly,” she she said.  
“Hah!” I laughed. “I don’t do anything responsibly. I’m Maya.”   
Haley laughed and shook her head.   
“I’m going to have to carry you home later, aren’t I?” she wondered out loud.  
“We’ll see how it goes,” I responded. I never grew taller than 5 feet so I’m not too hard to carry.   
“So what’s going on with you and Riley?” Haley asked, intrigued.   
I looked at her and waited for to swallow her sip and put her drink back down.   
“I…we…um…well…” I fumbled around for the words I needed.  
“Maybe you should just draw me a picture?” Haley joked.   
“We hooked up. She cheated on Lucas with me.”   
“SHUT UP! When?” Haley nearly fell off her stool.   
“It was when she was in town for the funeral.”   
Haley’s face suddenly became very serious.  
“What?” I asked.  
“I wish I was here to stop her,” she said. Her reply wasn’t at all what I expected.  
“Why?” I asked her.  
“Because you were vulnerable and she had no right-“  
“I wanted it to happen,” I interrupted.  
“Well, of course you did, but that girl has a problem!” Haley alleged.   
“What do you mean?” I asked her.   
“She seems to think the way to console people who have lost someone after a funeral is to hook up with them,” she scoffed.   
And suddenly I knew exactly what Haley meant.   
It was the beginning of the end of Riley and I, and of Lucas and Haley. 

I low key blame it on my dad. I know, Kermit always gets blamed as the reason my life is awful, but he actually really did mess up my life by taking me away from Riley that summer. 

After Shawn and my mom got married, Shawn wanted to adopt me, but Kermit wouldn’t sign away his parental rights. Instead he took my mom to court and sued for full custody of me, even though I was already 17. His lawyer dug up some old dirt on Shawn. He told the judge about Shawn’s history of blowing up mailboxes and claimed I wouldn’t be safe in his care. Luckily, my mom and Shawn had Topanga representing them, and she never loses a case. She pointed out that Kermit never made an effort to be a father to me for the past ten years and speculated that he must only be making an effort now because he was jealous of Shawn’s relationship with me. 

It was an ugly battle all around. It was really rough on all of us, but Riley was always there for me. I can’t even count how many times I cried myself to sleep in her arms during that second semester of tenth grade. She would always let me cry on her and stroke my hair and hold me close and tell me everything would be okay. 

The judge decided that it wouldn’t be in my best interest to force me to move to a different state and transfer schools because Kermit and his new family live in Pennsylvania. The judge was right. I would be turning 18 during my junior year anyway. At that point I can make up my own mind about where I want to live, and it certainly wouldn’t be with Kermit. However, the judge recognized that Kermit was now making an effort to be a parent to me and that his window of opportunity was closing soon. He granted joint custody for the remainder of my time as a minor, specifying that my mother would have custody of me during the school year, but I had to spend that summer between sophomore and junior year in Pennsylvania with my dad. 

I was so furious about this. I had no control over my own life. Some stranger with a gavel had just decided it for me, whether I liked it or not. I told my dad I wanted Riley to be able to come visit me at his house but he refused. He said he didn’t have a problem with our relationship but his wife would because she’s a very conservative Christian and she couldn’t allow anything the bible would consider a sin to go on under her roof. I’m rolling my eyes just thinking about it. 

It seemed that everyone in our group of friends had plans for that summer, except Riley. Farkle and Smackle were going away to some kind of robotics camp together. Haley was accepted into a prestigious summer program for high school students at Harvard University, so she was going to be in Massachusetts all summer. Lucas and Zay were supposed to both be going to baseball camp, but Lucas decided to go home to Austin for the summer instead because Pappy Joe’s health had worsened recently. 

I was being forced to spend my summer with Kermit, his holy roller wife Carla, and her son, Braden, in Hempfield Township, Pennsylvania I guess he’s technically my stepbrother and she’s technically my stepmom but I don’t think of them as family to me at all. Braden is a nice kid though.

I got a summer job working at the Value Lodge in New Stanton, PA, which is a borough that’s surrounded by Hempfield Township, about 35 miles outside of Pittsburgh. Braden, who is two years younger than me, was nice enough to let me borrow his bike that summer. I said I wanted to go look for a job and Kermit and Carla thought that was very responsible of me. I just wanted a reason to get out of the house and be away from them for several hours at a time. I rode by the hotel and saw the help wanted sign, so I inquired within.

That’s when I met Red. She was 22 and her hair was bright red, as if it had been colored in with a crayola crayon. When she had introduced herself, my response was:  
“Your name is Red? Like your hair?”   
She nodded and smiled. 

This Value Lodge happened to have a bar inside of it, and I don’t mean like a hotel bar. It looked like a dive bar with a pool table and everything. I’d never quite seen a budget hotel with a whole separate bar just across the hall from the check in counter, but here it was. Red explained that she had been working the check in counter and bartending at the same time and it was getting to be too much, hence the help wanted sign. I interviewed with her manager and was hired to work the check in counter so Red could focus on bartending. 

Red was actually pretty cool, certainly the coolest person I met during that summer in Hempfield Township. She would give me alcohol. Red would always markout a six pack of beer as damaged or something and give it to me. She was a pretty good listener, as most bartenders are, and I guess she felt my situation could be remedied with Yuengling. I talked to Riley on the phone everyday, but I never told her I was drinking. But I was drinking. Everyday. I’d hide it from Kermit and Carla with mouthwash. I don’t particularly think 17 is too young drink, but I wasn’t doing it recreationally. I was abusing it, and I guess I still am. But that’s beside the point. 

The point it, something happened that summer, a catalyst that started the end of everything. I was sipping on a six pack discreetly behind the hotel when my phone rang. It was Lucas.

“Hey Ranger Rick,” I answered, surprised to hear from him.  
“Maya?” His voice sounded shaky.   
“Yeah..whats’s up, Huckleberry?”   
“Out of everyone I called, you’re the only one who actually answered the phone,” he said.   
Something was wrong. He didn’t sound like his usual huckleberry self.   
“Are you okay?” I asked, concerned.   
“No.” He answered abruptly.   
“Lucas, what’s wrong?” I asked, my concern growing.   
Silence.  
“Lucas…?” I waited.   
“He’s gone, Maya.”  
And that’s when it hit me, like a train. I dropped my beer and the glass shattered loudly.   
“Pappy Joe?” I asked, already knowing the answer.   
“Yeah,” he said, his voice cracking.  
Tears started involuntarily rolling out of my eyes.   
“I’m so sorry, Lucas. He was a great man,” I said.  
Lucas sighed, “He was the best.”   
“You know, I loved him like he was my own,” I said, sincerely.  
“I know you did, Maya. He was very fond of you.”   
That made the sobs impossible to hold back. 

After hanging up with Lucas, I called Riley. She said she had missed the call from Lucas because she was in the subway and didn’t have service earlier. She hung up with me and called him back after I told her what happened. Then she called me back. She said she wanted to go to Austin for the funeral. I wanted to go too, but Kermit wouldn’t let me. Everyone else was away at their summer activity and couldn’t go either. Zay was pretty upset about not being able to go because he was at baseball camp. Haley felt especially bad. Even though she had never met Pappy Joe, she wanted to be there for Lucas, but her parents didn’t want her to leave Harvard. Riley was the only who could go, and I encouraged her to.

I encouraged her to go.

Because I’m an idiot.


End file.
